In front of my grown son, Lisa begins to tell a detailed story of something that Beth did when she was in kindergarten and Beth gave her rides to her school sometimes, stopping to party half-dressed with her boyfriends, in front of her little sister. This could not have been me since I did not learn how to drive until Lisa was 9 and I did not live with them before those years, not for five years.
After she’d got finished telling this story about some trashy behavior to my son, and I explained to her that it could not have been me and why it could not have been me, she threw her hands up in the air and exclaimed, “Well, it was one of you!”
According to the sloppiest of lazy thinking, I am guilty of my sister’s crimes simply because I am close in age. This is not a person who has the interest of truth in her heart.
After spending a lifetime keeping her husband’s trashy secrets to myself, at my sister’s request, she returns the favor by telling my grown son a trashy story about me that isn’t even true. That’s a sister to be remembered. Don’t be like that, not ever.
Oikos 